


Re:Synergise

by Flitty



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Anime), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pokemon Mystery Dungeon, Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Red Rescue Team & Blue Rescue Team, Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Rescue Team DX
Genre: ?/F, Action/Adventure, Ambiguous Gender Player Character, BAMF Partner Pokemon, BAMF Player Character, Canon Continuation, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Friendship, Other, Team Synergy, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:01:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27842677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flitty/pseuds/Flitty
Summary: After years of hard work, Team Synergy are renowned across the continent. They have challenged gods, fought armies and delved into the most gruelling Dungeons to rescue Pokemon and discover treasures beyond compare.They are legends.And then they’re shunted into another world, where those accomplishments mean nothing.Well, they’ll just have to rebuild.
Relationships: Partner Pokemon & Player Character (Pokemon Mystery Dungeon), Partner Pokemon/Player Character (Pokemon Mystery Dungeon)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 30





	1. Starting Small

Ugh, my head. Everything’s spinning.

I lay back for a minute, eyes closed, listening out for any signs of a struggle. Did I get hit by a Confuse Ray? And why am I on my back?

I can hear Chikorice breathing nearby, slow and steady, asleep. So we’ve probably either been KO’d, or we came close and we’re recovering. Probably a Sleep Powder or something.

Absol isn’t nearby, and neither are the Pokemon who left us like this. Maybe they finished each other off.

Come to think of it, this doesn’t really sound like a Dungeon at all. No echoes, no sounds of popping lava or water, plus there’s a pleasant breeze. Well, more like the promise of a storm, but still nothing like the too-still air or the rushing warning-winds you’d find in a Dungeon.

Then cold pricks of water start attacking my face, and I decide we need to get up before the incoming rain soaks us through. Thankfully the confusion has warn off, so I can open my eyes without fear of nausea.

We’re in the middle of an open field. Another point for ‘not a Dungeon’, then. There’re some mountains in the distance, probably comparable to Mt Steel in height, but they aren’t ones I recognise. There’s a forest much closer, though, which looks like it’ll be a better bet for shelter. I turn to Chikorice-

She’s... looking awfully small.

Oh.

Oh no.

...

Actually she looks small compared to usual, but she’s still a good portion of my height. I kind of assumed that humans were a bit bigger than this...

I just about manage to scoop her into my arms. She stirs, but doesn’t wake up. That’s probably for the best. Imagine if she woke up to a human carrying her away.

The thought startles a huff of laughter out of me, and the panic settles into something a little less volatile. Still, best get to shelter and review the situation before I get too comfortable.

I’m predictably unsteady on two feet as I lumber towards the trees. I’m not sure how long I spent as a human before the change - well, the _first_ change now, I guess - but my years as an Eevee got me very used to quadrupedal movement, and it doesn’t help that I’m carrying a sleeping Chikorita. Still, I do have some withered remnant of an instinct to fall back on, so we make it under the trees just in time to miss being drenched when the clouds break open.

Sitting against the base of a tree, I turn my attention to Chikorice, still fast asleep in my arms. She looks cold. I tighten my grip around her to try and keep the warmth in.

Maybe I could use Heal Bell to wake her up?

It’s worth a shot.

...Hm. I think it worked. But it doesn’t feel right. Like my connection to it has been muddied somehow.

Chikorice yawns cutely and rolls over in my lap before I can continue experimenting. “What happened?” she asks, cracking open an eyelid.

“Morning!” I chirp with a strained smile.

She lets out a little ‘eep!’ and jumps out of my lap when she lays eyes on me, then peers more closely. “Jamie, is that you?” she murmurs. I shrug, making a face, and she relaxes. So do I. “So... what’s with the new look? Is that... what a Human looks like? Did you change back?”

I hmm, looking over myself again. I’m... well, I must be tiny for a Human. I’m only about double Chikorice’s size. I’ve got some sort of babyishness to me as well. I think my Eevee body rubbed off on me a bit - my floofy cream hair emulates my old collar... decently.

Man... I really liked that collar.

Thankfully (if weirdly), I’m wearing some clothes. It’s just a t-shirt and pants, both in Eevee-brown, and I think they’re a bit small for me which is quite the achievement, but they’ll do.

My standard moveset is Helping Hand, Heal Bell and Tackle. I switch out Bite and Hyper Voice depending on the Dungeon - I wonder which I have right now?

I try to call upon the Dark type in my jaw... nothing. Then, ignoring the spike of panic at the thought that I might not even _have_ moves - maybe the Heal Bell was just a coincidence and Chikorice woke up on her own - I try the same with the Normal type, and it’s even fainter than usual but it’s definitely there, thrumming gently in my throat. Whew.

Hyper Voice it is, then. That’s good - it’s a strong area of effect, which is just what we need right now, even if I can’t take out the odd Ghost type without Chikorice’s help.

I relay the info to Chikorice. “What about you?” I ask.

She concentrates for a moment, then squirms a little, before stepping back into my lap and curling up with a sigh. I pull her into a four-limbed hug. To keep us warm.

“The standard set, but I don’t have a berry,” she says after a little more experimentation. So that’s Energy Ball, Ancientpower, Natural Gift: Typeless, and Giga Drain.

Now that I think about it, we don’t have our rescue team bag with us.

That sucks. Without a Chesto Berry for Natural Gift: Water, we’re a lot more vulnerable to the dual Fire types that aren’t weak to Rock. Judging by the surroundings that shouldn’t be a problem for a while now, we’ll mostly be dealing with Water, Grass and Normal types for the time being if anything, but tracking down Chesto berries is annoying at the best of times. We might not find one soon enough.

“Looks like Team Synergy’s out of commission for a while, huh?” Chikorice forlornly echoes my thoughts.

“Yeah,” I agree softly, leaning back against the dampening trunk. “Guess so.”

We sit in comfortable silence, listening to the patter of droplets on leaves. There’s something calming about watching the world turn.

Melancholy, I think is the word.

It’s been a good twenty minutes, but the rain isn’t letting up at all. Worse, the trees can’t hold that much water, so now we’re starting to get properly wet.

Well, _I_ am. Chikorice has a nice, waxy leaf to keep the worst of it off her. I don’t know whether to be jealous of her or just upset that I don’t have fur anymore, to keep the droplets from crawling down the skin of my arms.

I shake it off irritably. Stop that! It’s distracting! At least being wet as an Eevee isn’t an ever-changing sensation!

“We need shelter,” I decide.

“ _You_ need shelter,” Chikorice corrects with a smile, but it takes on a worried edge when she sees the frustration on my face. “Are you overstimulated?”

“No. A little.” I shake my head to clear it, and the force sends my soaked fringe across my forehead. “A lot,” I correct, repressing a shudder as a gust of wind leaves my face uncomfortably cool. Chikorice shivers in reaction. “Sorry.”

Ugh. I wish I still had fur.

I close my eyes and envision our team base- well, our old team base now, I suppose. We’re curled up on our beds, warmth reflecting off the straw as the storm rages on outside, the comforting flicker of candles our only other company...

Chikorice stands up and trots off, and I can almost hear the creaking of floorboards under her footsteps. She’s checking the map for our next destination. We’re starting from scratch again, so first we’ll need to gather some basics... Escape Orbs can wait, what we really need are Revivers so we’ll be going to-

I snap back to reality as my eyelids light up crimson and a burst of warm air washes over me. There’s a sigh of relief and it’s a moment before I realise it’s my own. I guess there’s only so much your imagination can do to help you ignore the elements.

It’s a while before I finally feel myself enough to open my eyes. Chikorice, patient as always, cheerfully waves a red berry at me - Cheri, my mind supplies. Natural Gift: Fire. Useful against Bug Biters.

Alright, stay on track.

Shelter.

We have Natural Gift: Typeless and Fire. Grass moves. Rock move. Hyper Voice plus my usual set.

Okay. That’s a plan.

Normal type energy surrounds me and I link it to Chikorice. It’s not as clear-feeling as usual so I redouble the effort - a little straining, but there’s nobody to fight so that’s fine.

Chikorice’s Ancientpower, powered up with my Helping Hand, is more than enough to procure (create?) a few dozen large, squarish stones. Stack them into a sort of igloo shape with small, leafy branches sandwiched in between in just the right way, a bunch of grass dried out with Giga Drain and strewn on the floor, and there we have a nice little temporary shelter!

The purpose of the branches is twofold. First, the leafy bits on the inside stop the wind from getting in through the little gaps in the stone. And secondly, the branches all point downwards on the outside, redirecting the water away from us, so now we’re dry as anything.

And to top it all off, a roaring campfire outside. Bliss.

By the time we’re done, the sky’s almost too dark to work in. Looks like we timed this pretty perfectly.

“New Rescue Base!” I proclaim in pure satisfaction as we nestle together inside. I’ve stripped down to my underwear which should probably be incredibly awkward - especially with how there’s so little room that we’re practically forced to wrap around each other to avoid cramping - but it’s a necessary evil with how soaked my outerwear got. Plus Pokemon don’t even wear clothes, so I’m unpracticed enough in Human decency to let it slide.

I hung my outerwear up over the doorway, to help keep the weather out. I’m pretty much resigned to an awful day filled with wet clothes and/or partial nudity tomorrow, but comfort has a much higher priority at night than during the day; sleep is important. I’m just grateful that it’s so warm despite the weather.

“You know,” Chikorice says apropos of nothing much, “even though we’re stuck somewhere completely unfamiliar, there’s something about this that feels... nice. Don’t you think?”

I chuckle, trying to subtly adjust my position so my arm doesn’t fall asleep. Her snort of laughter tells me I’m not doing a very good job, so I give up and just roll in place until I’m lying on my back - feels weird that I can do that - placing her on my bare stomach. “Well, besides the whole ‘being Human’ part... It’s the kind of thing you always want to do as a kid, isn’t it? Go camping and sleep under the stars?”

Chikorice nods in contemplation. “And there’s never really a reason to do that as an adult. We already have a home to go back to. And when we’re not there, we’re in a Mystery Dungeon so it’s too dangerous to camp out.”

She’s right - the only time we would ever make a camp is when we’re journeying between continents, and even then there are usually guilds that would trip over themselves to have the renowned Team Synergy as guests.

She stretches languidly along my front - no use worrying about personal space in these conditions - and we take a moment to bask in each other’s body heat.

Ba-Dum. Ba-Dum. Ba-Bum.

The insides of my eyelids are illuminated a vivid red for just an instant.

1, 2, 3, I automatically count. On 12, the thunder finally rolls in, rumbling through us both.

“Not close enough to worry about,” I murmur, and Chikorice hums quietly in agreement. We’re under a forest canopy anyway, about as safe as we can get in a lightning storm.

Ba-Dum. Ba-Dum. Ba-Dum.

“You’ve been taking this well,” she comments. I raise an eyebrow, not that she can see it. “Well, besides the sensory problems. You’re sure hard to phase.”

“You too. You’ve been treating me the same as always, even though I must look like a total stranger.”

She laughs, propping herself up with her front legs to better look at me. “You don’t actually look all that different, you know. You’ve got the same mane, the same colors, even your expressions are the same... it’s more like you evolved than anything. You look nice, by the way.”

I can’t help but break into a smile at such a Chikorice line. “Thanks.”

Now that I think about it, she recognised me immediately after the shock wore off, didn’t she? It’s odd to think that someone knows me so well, but... well. This is _Chikorice_. Of course she does.

Still, cliche as it is, the realisation sends a warm fuzzy feeling through my chest.

Ba-Dum. Ba-Dum. Ba-Dum.

There’s a lot we still need to think about...

But that’s for tomorrow.


	2. Chaos under Canopy

As I sluggishly come to awareness, something is immediately obvious:

I don’t feel right.

That’s about as far as my thoughts want to take me without further input, so I drag my paws through the straw-

Oh, that’s not straw.

 _Oh_ , those aren’t paws.

Right, yeah, that’s a thing that’s happening right now.

I squint my eyes open and immediately wish I could open them more to better appreciate the sight before me.

Chikorice is utterly dead to the world, draped across me like a saurian pillow and quietly snoozing away. I must be the luckiest Pokemon alive to witness this.

I commit the sight to memory and drop my head back into the dry grass. I’ll be damned if I wake her

...

How long’s I been out?

I mean- Aw, whatever. I’m too sleepy for grammar.

“Jamie? Are you awake?” Chikorice asks. I yawn long and silent, covering my eyes with my paws.

Hands.

Still too tired.

“’m awake,” I manage, gathering my tenacity to crack open an eyelid and- ow. Bright. “Never mind, wake me up at lunchtime.”

“Nope!” she says, clearly meaning to sound bright, but there’s an edge to it that wakes me up properly. “I’m a bit, erm, stuck.”

And indeed she is.

We didn’t manage to get all the water off me last night, with no spare dry cloth to towel myself off with. And, well, get wet and put something on your stomach for a few hours. It sticks.

Especially if that something is a Chikorita.

Ouch.

Ow! Owowow! That- ow- really stings!

Finally, after minutes and painful minutes, we manage to pry ourselves apart, blushing profusely. And- pff.

I break down into helpless laughter despite Chikorice’s giggly, embarrassed protests as I stare at the red-raw, vaguely Chikorita-shaped mark on my stomach.

It’s still pittering rain as the sun steadily rises, but a minute or two of Natural Gift: Fire is enough to dry out my tee and shorts. It also gives them a bit of a charcoal-y kick, which I could do without, but I _can’t_ do without the clothes themselves, so the smell will have to stay.

My stomach rumbles. We need to find a Dungeon, fast - once we’re in, we can take advantage of Notorious Fasting to find food at our leisure. Without Dungeon energy though, our Rare Qualities are useless. We’ll starve before long out here.

The trek through the forest continues mostly in silence, since I’m still wobbly on my feet and Chikorice is busy searching for food. The only food we can find are berries (for once I’m grateful for my newfound hands and pockets, or we’d never be able to carry them all), but there’s enough of them to last us a fair while. Bonus: a couple of them are even Oran! If I let my health drain from hunger and then eat a berry, they’ll last us longer, and with Oran, it’s almost risk-free since I just heal the damage I-

I pitch forward, more surprised than anything at the familiar cramping pain coursing through me. I haven’t been walking that long with hunger pains, have I? Usually I’d be able last a good few days!

Chikorice appears in front of me, holding out the Oran she just foraged like a concerned parent, and I accept it gratefully. Immediately the twisting in my stomach settles and my body relaxes.

Strange. Without Dungeon energy, that shouldn’t have healed so much.

“Am I... weaker than usual?” I ask cautiously, experimentally stretching a hand. I call up a Tackle, get to my feet and ram a tree with all my might.

Barely a dent. Usually it would shear in two.

Chikorice tries the same with Giga Drain, and achieves a similar result. “We’re both weaker, but this isn’t a Dungeon,” she says, perplexed. “I didn’t really notice it since we haven’t been in combat yet, but I’d say I’m...” she tries an AncientPower, “...about twice as strong as I start in Joyous Tower. I’m not sure about you though.”

I shrug as we begin walking again, side-by-side. “Humans don’t usually have moves in the first place-“ The thought that strikes me hits like a truck. “What if this is my Level 100 now? What if I can’t get any stronger?”

That’s... scary.

Chikorice looks at me oddly. “Jamie, we defeated Ho-Oh with ease last summer. It was barely even a fight. You wanna know why?”

I lick my dry lips. “The... Pounce Wand?” I don’t see how that’s-

“Your decision to use the Pounce Wand,” she corrects pointedly. “Your strength has nothing to do with moves and abilities, I thought you knew that.”

My throat loosens a little. We trudge along in silence besides the rustle of plants.

She’s right. When we get into a bad situation, I reach for my bag first - my moves are secondary. Trusting in items instead of solely our own power is part of what makes us such a formidable team in the first place; it’s what elevated us past Team ACT, brought us so high up Joyous Tower, and saved us from many a rampaging legendary.

“Besides, we made a promise. Something as small as a new world won’t change that.”

A smile tugs at my mouth at the memory:

Go down, or go down in history.

And we aren’t going down that easily.

There are Pokemon around.

It’s mostly Bug types, with the occasional Pikachu. They’re not quite _feral_ , like the ones in Mystery Dungeons, but they might as well be. They don’t use items. They don’t use strategies. They’re just wild children.

Far from the determined, cunning Caterpie and Butterfree we left behind, already tackling Mt. Thunder as Team Chrysalis.

They’re kinda creepy.

They avoid us though, for the most part, agitated by our presence in their territory but held back by their fear. We’ve had to fight our way through a few particularly brave Weedle, but other than that there’s little worry.

And then Chikorice gets poisoned.

Even more humiliating, it’s a Weedle that I couldn’t take down in one hit that does it.

We’re too weak for poison. We’d already be struggling if we were fighting anything other than these particularly dumb Bugs, but with the poison, we can’t risk Chikorice moving too much, and the Bugs are closing in so quickly now that they sense weakness that I can’t use Heal Bell without risking a dozen hits. The most I can do is power through them all with Hyper Voice, but even then, occasionally one survives the first wave and gets a strike in, slowly whittling us down.

Then the Beedrill come, and we turn tail (tailbone, in my case). From there it’s a blur.

And yet, as we tear past trees and shrubs, thorns catching on my clothes and nettles stinging my bare feet, identical adrenaline-fuelled grins split our faces.

There’s a reason we attempted the Joyous Tower climb so often.

Chikorice turns to me as we run, much the worse for wear from the poison, and I’m ready when she takes a sideways leap into my arms - heavy, but I’m the one who carries our bag; this is nothing. I barely stumble under the weight, barrelling through the undergrowth like a Pokemon possessed.

Chikorice chances a glance behind us and pales, sickly blue. “They’re gaining on us!” she yells hoarsely over the rush in my ears. I woodenly stomp on, refusing to give an inch.

Another Beedrill cuts off our path, buzzing furious curses at us as it rears to strike. It’s met with an Ancientpower crit from my partner for an instant KO, but my hesitation costs us a meter-

Something snags on my mind. My grin returns in full force, wide and feral.

A white needle tears into my sleeve,

and then my next step

 _launches_.

It’s far from a perfect victory, I reflect as we roll into a collapsed heap in the middle of an open field, panting heavily. In fact, it comes with a hefty sacrifice.

Tackle is the perfect endurance move - respectable damage, reliable and efficient. Heal Bell is absolutely necessary for a team that packs light and uses its berries for attacking. Helping Hand is absurdly powerful alongside Chikorice’s type coverage.

Hyper Voice was the weak link, perfect for clearing hoards of weak enemies, but too draining for much else. It’s my safety net, for when Chikorice is out and I need to fend for myself, or when we’re surrounded. And it’s saved us hundreds of times.

But in that instant, we _needed_ Quick Attack.

I don’t know when, or even if, I can get Hyper Voice again. Usually I’d just go to Gulpin for that, but... well, there’s probably a universe or two between us now, if my being Human is anything to go by.

I sigh in frustration, chiming Heal Bell. We both immediately relax as the poison seeps away - I guess that last grazing hit from the Beedrill was a Poison Jab or Twineedle or something.

I suppose we should be grateful that Ancientpower hit its mark. If it weren’t for that, I wouldn’t have reached level 13 and learned Quick Attack, and we wouldn’t be alive to regret it. It’s still upsetting to lose such a valuable resource as Hyper Voice though.

Sighing again, I turn out my pockets. Only one slightly-squished Oran, and some assorted status-healers.

Chikorice’s breathing is ragged and she’s largely unresponsive, but even like this she could muster a powerful Giga Drain if we can find an enemy to use it on. I’m doing poorly myself - usually it wouldn’t be an issue with Funnel Fun, but there’s no Dungeon energy here so it’s useless.

The choice is obvious.

Chikorice chews unthinkingly when I place the Oran to her mouth, which I’m grateful for - if she were fully conscious, she would have refused outright. Although I suppose it wouldn’t be necessary if she were.

Her eyes snap into focus as her wounds begin to heal - again, no Dungeon energy means it’s not as effective, but it still helps a lot since we’re such low-level.

She gets one good look at me and predictably opens her mouth to protest.

I cut her off, “We’re not in combat. I can heal the hard way. But we both need to be alert.” She thinks it through for a moment and slumps, glaring into the distance, still too exhausted to speak. “Besides, I’m still not used to... this,” I finish, gesturing at myself in general. “I’m not at my full potential, even if we did heal me.”

We take a minute to rest in the short grass, taking in our states. Chikorice is still covered in scratches and nicks, her leaf raggedy and limp despite the berry.

I hiss as the adrenaline is flushed away and the pain starts to set in.

My feet throb uncomfortably and I pull them out from under me. They’re... ruined, pretty much. Blood seeps from between the toes, the soles are covered in nicks, scratches, stings and even a few embedded thorns, and there’s a huge scuff on the top of my right foot from when it slipped off a tree-trunk during that last-ditch Quick Attack, purple and white with layers of broken skin peeling off. I flex my toes, studiously ignoring the sting, and decide that I can probably still walk.

Well, hobble.

Then, with the pressure off my feet, my left arm flares up like it’s been dipped in magma and I can’t entirely hold back a whimper as I finally catch sight of my shoulder - Because that’s a _bit_ more than a graze.

I’m amazed I can still flex my fingers.

If I know anything about Humans (which to be fair I really don’t), it’ll scar thoroughly.

Chikorice, wide-eyed and horrified at the sight,

...

“-mie. Jamie! Listen to my voice!”

Chikorice. I blink dumbly through the tears (when did they well up?) and she comes back into focus, blurry but there.

She’s... hugging my wrist. With her front legs. She’s great... a

Why am I shaking?

I think I’m gonna throw up... I _wish_ I could throw up. Maybe the ringing would go away.

“-deep breaths,” she’s saying. She’s been saying for a while. I can do that.

“In.” My ribs ache, I can’t stop shaking-! I can’t _breathe_

“Hold.” My eyes snap shut. Chikorice is saying something, I don’t know what, but it’s calm. We’re calm.

“And ou-“ I swallow coppery something and choke on what’s left in my throat, a strangled bubbly sound above the noise.

...Okay.

In. I close my eyes again, Chikorice still calm. It’s fine.

Hold. My heart thumps madly in my ears. We’re safe. Chikorice is calm, we’re fine.

And out.

I’m back.

I swallow what’s left of the blood - probably from my gums - grimacing at the metallic aftertaste. I wish I had some water. My stomach threatens to spill its contents, but the buzzing in my ears is leavi- OH, there it is again-

I turn away from my partner and unceremoniously retch into the grass. Finally. My vision’s spotty, my teeth hurt, my throat is burning-

Again, and my throat seizes up.

Again, and the buzzing...

Stops.

Chikorice pats me hard on the back as I spit out the last of it. It’s too red. Just the gums though, I’m fine.

We’re fine.

And then I can breathe again, I can hear again, my stomach’s settled and it’s such a relief that I break into low, heaving laughter for a moment. Chikorice releases her tight grip on my wrist and slumps, joining in on the relief, if not the laughter. I can’t blame her.

We just breathe slowly, deeply for a while together, as my addled brain struggles to grip onto something I learned back before I was an Eevee. It eventually slots into place.

Resigning myself to the chilly breeze, I brace myself against the pain to pull my ripped-up t-shirt gingerly over my head, and hand it to a bewildered Chikorice. “Tie that over the cut,” I instruct, voice too weak. “It should slow the blood down. It needs to be tight though.”

She nods resolutely, and barely a minute later my shirt has been repurposed as a makeshift bandage, tied with vines to keep it in place. Impressive how quickly she worked that out - Pokemon don’t bleed much and I’m not sure Chikorita even _have_ blood, so we’ve only ever been bandaged up by trained healers at the end of our expeditions, and then only rarely.

“Alright,” I say, picking myself up off the ground. My undamaged arm aches tremendously at the force, my mouth tastes like bile, my scabby feet scream their protests and I leave blood on the grass behind me, but I ignore it all. “We need to walk.”

Well, hobble.

“...Where are we?” Chikorice wonders idly as she trots alongside me. She occasionally steals an assessing glance at my feet or my arm, and I’m endlessly grateful that she still trusts me to continue in this condition, even as a human.

We’ve both had worse before (minus the blood), but it’s rare, and never without our badges or an Escape Orb ready.

She hasn’t brought up the Oran mishap either, trusting that I’ve already realised my own idiocy, for which I’m endlessly grateful. Relying on my sense of pain instead of actually checking my injuries was a huge oversight on my part, especially since I have such a high tolerance in the first place.

I can’t let that happen again.

I push aside the introspection, looking around properly for the first time since the Beedrill. Chikorice steered us onto a dirt path at some point while I wasn’t paying attention, and she’s apparently been herding my subconscious into staying on the grass so I don’t get grit in my cuts.

After the path, the second thing that jumps out at me are the weird shapes ahead: a set of huge grey pillars peeking out over the hilly terrain, decorated with tiny little shiny black squares and topped with an assortment of odd shapes. Is that a row of bushes on one of them...? Yeah, I think I can see them rustling in the breeze.

I make to jot it down in the map, before I realise that we don’t have one anymore. That’s depressing, all that work gone in an instant.

Well, assuming we were at the team base when we vanished, Absol and Maxie will take possession of them and-

Focus on the question, Jamie.

I give the slowly encroaching structures another once-over. “They almost look like team bases,” I frown, absently tripping on nothing. “Look, I’m pretty sure those squares are windows.”

Chikorice is lost for words for a moment. “Those are buildings? They’re HUGE!” she yells in something between horror and excitement, springing up onto her hind legs for a better look. She just about reaches my chest-height, I note, touching back down after a few seconds. “How many Pokemon must live there, for bases that big to be necessary?! It’s like a gigantic rescue team plaza! Jamie, we _need_ to go look!”

I chuckle. “We need to get me fixed up anyway, remember?” Suddenly being reminded of my grievous, debilitating injuries seems to put a damper on her mood. So naturally, I double down. “I might never walk again,” I intone as dramatically as possible, lifting a paw ( _hand_ ) to my heart.

The effect is dampened slightly since I happen to be walking.

“Don’t joke about that!” she scolds through an unwilling smile, whapping me gently with a vine. I count it as a victory.


	3. Sunny Facades

This place is like nothing we’ve ever seen!

The paths are made of this odd grey material. I’d almost call it stone, but I can’t see any gaps in it, and how could anyone have shaped this entire system of paths from one block of stone? Where would they even _get_ that much?

And that’s not even _mentioning_ the buildings.

We’ve seen buildings in our world, occasionally. Usually they’re Pokemon-shaped and only have one small floor, but some of the bigger rescue bases are almost as big as a Dungeon floor, with two or even three above-ground stories. The vast majority of Pokemon just set up tents, or live life in their natural habitats.

These structures touch the _sky_! They stretch far over our heads, the sun glinting off their dozens of glass-filled windows, perfectly straight with perfectly-squared corners.

I can’t help but bounce on my toes in glee.

Tip: don’t put that much pressure on injured feet. I hit the ground like a sack of apples. I only avoid more damage because Chikorice is quick enough to catch my head and upper torso in her vines.

I whimper, the pain I’ve been ignoring finally too much to walk off. My arm is lanced with pain - I think I just pulled open whatever scabs started to form - and my feet feel like they’re going to burst, which makes sense given how red-purple and swollen they are, now that I look.

No wonder Chikorice has been worried, I think with a wry smile. I must look something awful.

“Breathe, Jamie,” she says again. I do, my momentary grin turning into a pained grimace.

“I’m fine this time, I’m pretty sure,” I manage through grit teeth. “It just hurts _immensely_. You know, the usual.”

“It’s _going_ to hurt if you’re so careless, you know,” she teases mildly, setting me down onto the floor with incongruous care. She gives my battered feet another cursory glance, shaking her head in exasperation. “I’m honestly amazed we got this far; we’re a mess.”

She scans the place for anyone who can help, but it’s pretty late and we’re only on the outskirts of town, so the streets are mostly empty.

I see movement in the corner of my eye, but my neck twinges in warning when I try to look, and I give it up as a bad job for the moment. “Is that a Human to my left?” I ask instead.

There’s a pause, before she confirms with a nod, seemingly thinking something over.

Before I can ask what she’s planning, she sends a slow Energy Ball upwards, and hits it with a Natural Gift: Fire before it can fly out of range.

Oh, that’s clever! I’ve never considered that a structure made entirely of Grass-type energy would burn like that. And if Chikorice is thinking what I’m thinking...

The ball flies a few feet higher, burning bright orange before it destabilises entirely, and if the stupendous _BANG_ doesn’t get that Human’s attention, the roaring pillar of fire in the sky certainly will.

Sure enough, the Human jumps about a foot in the air and has barely had time to land before they’re rushing over to us. My neck picks this moment to work as intended, so I get to actually look at them.

They’re... really, really tall, is the take-away. And I can’t see their eyes.

Well. I’m really, really short, so they’re probably not as tall as they look.

I give them a weak wave in greeting. My arms feel like lead. “Don’t suppose you have healers here,” I venture, shaking my head to remove the fuzziness. It doesn’t really work, and I think I pulled something in my neck.

“Hey kid, stay with me,” they say - he says, I correct, judging by the voice -

Wait, kid? I’m a rescuer, not some lost child!

“I’m not,” I deny, crossing my arms. It comes out weird.

He scoops me into his arms, and I hiss against the movement, but it doesn’t hurt much. “Not what?”

“Not.” We stare at each other oddly, and I realise I’m not sure what I’m protesting anymore. “Healer?” I prompt instead.

“Right, kid-“

“Am not,” I pout.

...Am I being difficult?

“Right,” he amends. I think he’s trying not to laugh at me, which is just plain rude. I don’t feel that bad about being difficult anymore. “Just stay with me, okay? Can you tell me your name?”

I blink. “Is that important?” I wonder. Name is a strange first thing to ask someone. “Jamie,” I say anyway, trying to shrug. He’s holding me around the shoulders though, so it doesn’t really work.

“Alright Jamie, how old are you?” Well that definitely doesn’t matter. I tighten the knot in my arms, frowning at nothing in particular. I’m not a kid. “...Are you a trainer?” he finally, tiredly asks.

I shake my head. What’s a trainer supposed to be? “We’re- where’s Chikorice?”

“I’m down here, Jamie!” Chikorice chirps from somewhere below me, a vine extending into my field of view. I sigh, relaxing.

Wait, where’s the vine? Where’d Chikorice go-?

Oh, there. Okay.

I pluck the vine out of the air, and she wraps it gently around my wrist. Much better. I stop trying to stand up.

“Oh, that’s Chikorice, she’s perfect, I love her. And...” what was the question again? Oh! “And we’re Team Synergy, a rescue team!” I raise my unhurt arm to the sky as part of the cheer, dragging the vine along with it.

“Jamie, you’re struggling,” Chikorice calls up. There’s something odd in her voice and I try to be worried, but my brain doesn’t cooperate.

I’m not struggling though. “Am I?” I lower my arm back to my side. Oh, I almost punched the Human’s lights out just now, didn’t I? I apologise meekly. Or, I think I do, at least. I don’t hear it.

The Human just sighs good-naturedly and keeps walking.

I like him, I decide.

I wake up.

This is odd, because I didn’t fall asleep. Did I? I might have done. Not sure.

My head hurts. My paws hurt. My shoulder hurts.

Aaaand I’m back in the present. Great.

I open my eyes with surprising ease; I’m not usually a morning Pokemon. I still have to shield my eyes from the bright blue-white light though-

Hands. Not paws.

UGH. It’s too early for this. I roll over onto my stomach and drift off again...

At least, I try. Every time I almost get close to blessed unconsciousness the light pierces through my eyelids in just the wrong way and I’m left much too awake and increasingly grumpy.

Finally, I sit up with a wordless growl, kicking off whatever fabric abomination the healer decided to cover me with, and glare murderously at the light source.

It’s square, embedded into the ceiling - which is made of white tiles with some weird glossy material between them - and looking at it is like looking into the sun, so I stop.

Probably not a Luminous Orb.

I settle onto my belly, eyes closed and considering.

If you want a faux-sun in the ceiling, it doesn’t make sense to have it on all the time, does it? You’d never be able to sleep at night (case in point), and clearly this room is for sleeping.

There’s a window (weirdly square and filled with glass), and it’s dark outside. So the faux-sun doesn’t turn off when the real one goes down. Which means it’s probably turned on and off with a trigger, like a chestnut trap or something.

I scan the (also tiled, but different from the ceiling) floor with practised ease, but there aren’t any strings around, not even in the grooves between each tile. And anyway, getting tripped up whenever you want to sleep sounds dumb. It should be something you can only trigger on purpose.

There’s... a bunch of weird things on the wall, near the floor, almost like buttons, but only the top half is pressed in while the bottom sticks out. They’re all on a square of that same glossy white stuff on the ceiling, with two tiny holes cut into each square - some are rectangles instead, with two sets of both holes and buttons.

What goes in those holes, I wonder? Maybe one of them leads to the faux-sun.

Oh, and there’s another one of them right next to the door, high up. But this one doesn’t have the holes next to it (besides the little ones for nails), and the bottom is pushed in instead of the top. Some kind of seesaw thing, then?

My mind traces a path inside the wall, up over the ceiling and into the sun. A pulley system could totally fit in there. And it makes some kind of sense for the trigger for the sun to be near the door (even if it makes more sense for it to be near where you sleep).

Well, only one way to find out, right?

I have to reach above my head which doesn’t do my injuries any favors, but I’m way too curious now, so I suck it up and stand painfully on my tiptoes to paw at the thing.

The middle doesn’t press in when I push it, but the entire thing creaks slightly. It is a lever like I thought, then. I stretch even further to press the top instead, and the bottom pops back out of the wall, and the room is bathed in darkness.

Feeling oddly accomplished, I head back to... what I assume is the human equivalent of a bed. It’s probably the biggest, most over-designed bed I’ve ever seen, covered entirely in perfectly white fabric, and just sitting on it makes me feel weirdly arrogant. I think I prefer straw.

There’s a yawn in the dark, then a quiet shuffle, and a dazed Chikorice’s head pops out of the fabric thing I tossed aside earlier. I immediately feel bad - she must’ve been sleeping on top of it at the time.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” I blurt.

She giggles, still blinking sleepily as she extracts herself from the thing. Her leaf has healed up nicely, and some of her scratches are starting to fade. “Nope, just startled me is all.” She pats the bed twice, giving me a look that very clearly expects me to join her. “Come on Jamie, you need to rest.”

“Only because you’re perfect,” I grumble, clambering back onto the thing. I wanted to see what those other levers do, that’s gonna eat me until morning.

Chikorice freezes up as I collapse back onto the springy bed and she’s bounced up. Oops. She relaxes after a moment though, making her way unsteadily to me-

I shiver violently, and my nose twitches like I want to sneeze, but I can’t. Stupid lack of fur. You’d think that the alterations in body-structure would be the most annoying part of no longer being an Eevee, but you’d be very wrong.

Maybe that’s what the fabric cover is for.

I yank it irritably back over myself. Chikorice’s undignified yelp as it flops over her head immediately brightens my mood. Trying to stay mad is an exercise in futility with Chikorice on the same continent.

For a while, we shuffle around, trying to get comfy. Well, mostly me. Have I mentioned how much having a new body sucks?

Eventually I settle on my right side, curled up, but I’m still frigid even under the fabric. Usually my tail would keep me warm at night-

“Is that better?”

Warm. I pull Chikorice closer.

Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum.

“Yeah, this is better.”

For a while, it’s just steady breaths and heartbeats in the dark, a soft whirring of something in the background. We’re both a bit more shaken by the whole thing than we want to let on. Usually we sleep in our own beds unless we’re low on resources, but right now I can’t imagine being left alone with my body, and I don’t think Chikorice is willing to leave me, either.

She’s great like that.

“So... what now?” Chikorice asks, finally.

I hum. “Well obviously we want to keep exploring, right?”

“Right,” she says with no hesitation. Like it’s even a question.

“But to do that, we need an idea of what we’re exploring. We know that both Humans and Pokemon exist here, but Dungeons might not, which we’d need to alter our loadout for... especially since we wouldn’t have Effect Seeds or Max Ethers, and berries wouldn’t be Dungeon-boosted. I’m thinking we find a source of Sitrus-“

Chikorice prods me in the stomach and I break off my rant. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” she says. “We haven’t seen much of this world yet. There’s no point in worrying about what-ifs when we could just ask in the morning, right?”

I sigh, shifting onto my back and dropping Chikorice on my stomach like last time. Stupid human body, can’t find a good position. “I’m just thinking... in our world, that forest would have been a Dungeon. It had the Pokemon, the densely-packed spaces and the location, so it should have been one, but it just... wasn’t. It would have been easy if it were, even at our level, but we got beaten down because it _wasn’t_.”

A tiny claw rubs gently at my side. “Hey, we’ll figure things out. We always do.”

I huff, annoyed. “I know, it’s just... frustrating. I mean, we weren’t even done with the old world! They could’ve at least waited until we cleared Joyous Tower first!”

I drop my arms down and tuck them back under the fabric, too out of breath, another reminder of how far we’ve fallen. My anger spent, I slump further into the springy... whatever it is underneath us. I don’t care.

“...We need to find a map, first thing tomorrow,” I say tiredly. “We can ask around about Mystery Dungeons, see if we can’t gather some basic supplies, make a few expeditions, that sort of thing. There has to be _something_ to help us.”

“I think... we should take a few days off exploring,” Chikorice ventures carefully. I feel my hackles rising at the suggestion. “No, listen! We were badly hurt this morning, and we have no idea where we are.”

I bristle. “That’s exactly why we need to find out-“

“That’s why we need to take our time, and be careful,” she cuts in firmly, and my reflexive argument shrivels up and dies on the spot. More kindly, she continues, “I know you’re anxious to get going again, I am too, but we can’t just shrug off moving to an entirely new world. We don’t know what’s-“ her voice cracks and she takes a deep, shuddering breath. “We don’t know anything, really. I’m... I’m really scared, Jamie.”

Well. I feel awful.

I’m suddenly struck by how much we left behind. Not just our team and our base and our knowledge, but actual, living people, friends who might never see us again now.

The young Team Chrysalis looked up to us for help and guidance that we can’t give anymore. Absol and Maxie and the others are missing their team leaders. The Pokemon we’d have saved don’t have us anymore.

I bring Chikorice into a hug. We... really had something going, didn’t we? It’s strange how I only notice that now, after so many years of building it up.

And now it’s gone.

“We need allies.”

She doesn’t reply. There’s nothing more to say; it’s a conclusion we’ve both come to. We’re scared and lost, as much as we hate to admit it.

We need to fix that.

“Sleep well, Jamie.”

My lip quirks up, despite everything. “You too, Chikorice.”


	4. Up and At ‘Em

We wake up too early.

I suppose we fell asleep early too, after yesterday’s debacle. We were both very injured after all.

But still, waking before the crack of dawn? Unforgivable!

Even the early-bird that is Chikorice groans into my chest when she takes a look out the window at the dark blue-grey skies. “What’s the point of being awake if nobody else is?” she bemoans softly, sinking back into my torso. “I’m going back to-“

My stomach growls loudly, startling a laugh out of us both, and I’m suddenly very aware of how little we’ve eaten since arriving here. Pokemon or Human, berries do not a full meal make.

I tear my eyes away from all the faux-suns lighting up the streets outside. “Wanna go get some breakfast?”

“ _Yes!_ ”

After a brief struggle with the door, we make it outside into a sterile-feeling corridor. The floor is cold and smooth yet a little springy under our feet - I don’t even want to _begin_ to guess what it’s made of.

We’re above ground-level, so logically the only way out is down. Unless it’s a Wigglytuff’s Guild sort of situation, or this town has some Dungeon-esque improbable geometry going on, but somehow I doubt that.

We find the stairs, but not before passing by some giant metal box embedded in the wall. Maybe a treasure vault of some kind? In which case this might be a guild headquarters instead of the healer building I was imagining.

Strange.

What would otherwise be an uneventful trip down the stairs turns into a much more literal trip when my still-swollen foot gives out under the force of dropping onto it.

Stupid human body.

Chikorice is more prepared than last time, snagging me by the torso with a vine before I can properly fall. “Whew, thanks,” I grin weakly.

My legs feel like jelly.

She rolls her eyes. “You’re banned from walking under your own power.” She ignores my feeble protests as she marches us downstairs. “I’ll ask the healer about a walking stick or something, but until then I’m carrying you. You’re very bad at being bipedal.”

“I’ve only _been_ bipedal for like, a day and a half,” I grumble, crossing my arms (and wincing at the pressure on my bandaged one). “I’m getting better.”

Chikorice disagrees, if her disbelieving snort is anything to go by.

The first door at the bottom of the stairs opens to a wide-open indoor space, with a shiny, spotless wooden floor. The walls are lined with tables and stools, clearly designed for Human use.

To the right, the focal point of the room, is a long, curved counter. At the sound of the door opening, a head pops up from behind it for a brief moment.

“I didn’t expect Humans to look so different from one-another,” Chikorice comments in aside.

I have to agree. This Human has much lighter skin than my savior from yesterday, and their hair is Porygon-pink - I was a bit out of it at the time, but I think my savior had dark hair. And I look like neither of them.

Maybe it’s a gender difference.

“Hold on a moment, I’m just setting up for the day! I’ll be with you in a-!” The Human straightens up, and their eyes widen when they land on us. “Oh! You’re the one who was brought in last night! Jamie, wasn’t it?”

“And Chikorice,” I gesture. The two wave to each other in greeting, Chikorice with her leaf and the Human with a hand.

After a moment, she (I think) seems to properly take in my situation. “...Why are you tied up like that?”

“They lost walking privileges,” Chikorice deadpans. The Human gives her a blank look.

“I tried to walk and it didn’t go very well,” I explain. “I almost fell down the stairs.”

“Of course you did,” the Human - probably a healer, now that I think about it - sighs, her confusion turning into an eye-roll. “I did leave a-“ the next word she says doesn’t register in my head for a moment. “-next to the door, you know. You could have used that.”

After a silence just long enough to be awkward, the unknown word resolves itself into... something. “A... wheeled chair?” I ask blankly, half wondering if I misheard. “Like a chair with wheels on it, so you don’t need to walk?”

How would you make it move? Would you need someone else to push you? Still, it seems like it could be useful, if it’s anything like the image I have in my head.

The healer stares at me like I just set my hair alight and performed a pirouette. “I don’t suppose you know what an elevator is, either,” she states flatly.

“Nope! I can guess from the name though.” In a moment of spontaneous humor, I casually add, “I did spend several years as an Eevee, you know.” The vines holding me wobble dangerously, but my air of innocence doesn’t waver in an impressive display of self-control. “Does this place have a cafe?”

She points automatically. “Straight through that- Wait, you can’t just-“

But we do.

Chikorice finally gives up her own shaky facade of solemnity as the door shuts behind us, collapsing into a snickering heap on the floor and loosing her vines just enough that I can regain my achy footing.

“Jamie, that... was terrible of you! The poor lady... she was so confused!” she cries between gasping breaths. I watch in glee as she tries to stand on shaky legs like a newly-hatched Ponyta, communicating her plight in a fascinating mix of frustrated growls and laughter.

“I know, it was great,” I say smugly.

Chikorice finally begins to find her feet as I test my own, stretching to remove kinks I’ve had since I woke up.

This room is a little smaller than the last one, with a counter on the far end. The right-hand wall is entirely made of windows, which strikes me as an odd choice. There’s a reason that glass is used so sparingly in our world. It makes heating harder. And security. And it’s hard to make. A bunch of things, actually.

Maybe they found a way around all that.

There’s hot food - I allow myself a moment of giddiness - but nobody is here. Strange.

The selection of food is... much more diverse than I thought. There are some fairly easily-gotten things, like raw seeds and berries, but the selection includes some that I’ve never seen, such as this group of tiny red berries making up a big berry, and some fruits with spiky leaves and shells that remind me of planked wood.

All the labels are in a language I can’t read, which is somewhat disheartening.

There’s berry soup. I recognise a few of them, like the Rawst (eugh), and the Cheri, which I _so_ want to taste with all those extra flavors I can smell mixed in.

And is that _Oran_ soup?! Heresy! Oran are for adventures, not cooking!

Then there’s the sandwiches - different kinds of food placed between sliced bread. Bread is rare in our world, and we only ever use it for dipping with stews, so this is definitely something I want to try.

There’s stuff that I’ve never even heard of before, too, like these tiny white grains which are stored both by themselves in a heap, and packed with berries and some kind of leaf into a variety of bite-sized snacks. I really like the look of those cone-shaped ones-

My hopes and dreams are abruptly smooshed as Chikorice voices a realisation:

“We don’t have any money.”

I try very, very hard to conjure a storm cloud above my head as we slump back into the healer’s room. It’s times like these that I’m almost tempted to want to evolve - a Vaporeon could complete the look. But I like my collar. And my tail.

Which I don’t have anymore.

If I get any more morose, this might be the time that I actually _succeed_ at making that cloud.

The healer perks up at the sight of us. “That was fast. Is something the matter?”

“We don’t have money,” I glumly say. “Do you know how we can-“

“Oh, don’t worry about that! We’re allowed to provide a few free meals in certain situations like this.”

Well that certainly makes things easier...

“But we’ll need to be here longer than that,” Chikorice reminds us, and I wince. “Do you know how we could earn some money around here?”

The healer... doesn’t react.

I blink, an obvious thought crossing my mind. “You... _can_ understand Pokemon, right?”

Chikorice makes a soft _‘oh!’_ as the pieces slot into place for her too.

I vaguely remember, on my first day as an Eevee, my surprise at Chikorice being able to talk. In so long, I completely forgot that Humans don’t understand Pokemon naturally.

To be fair, I completely forgot quite a lot about Humans. That tends to happen to amnesiacs.

“No I cannot,” the healer says bluntly. Her eyes unfocus briefly. “Wait, when you said you were an Eevee-“

“I guess some things carried over,” I say with a shrug. I chime Heal Bell for good measure, an ethereal ringing hanging in the air around us.

She’s apparently beyond surprise by this point, as she just nods thoughtfully, a hand to her lips. “Well that explains the lack of poison yesterday... say, could I run a few tests? I have some suspicions now that I know that-“

The door to the outside slides open with a whir. “NURSE JOOOOY~!” yells a Humanoid Rock Wrecker wearing orange and green and far too much energy for this time of day.

Before we can so much as blink, the blur lowers itself onto one knee, the healer’s hand in its own, its silhouette reconstituting into that of my savior from yesterday. “Not a day passes when I am unaffected by your unearthly beauty! Your stunning confidence! Your- SHARP... wit-!”

He slams into the floor (I wince as his head makes an audible thunk). The Croagunk behind him croaks.

Doesn’t croak anything in particular, just...

Croaks.

Pokemon in this world can speak. Or, whatever passes for speaking, when Humans can’t understand them. But I know for a _fact_ that those Beedrill were yelling words at us yesterday.

Mostly swear words, actually. I learned a few new ones!

But Croagunk just croaks.

Then, slowly and deliberately, he takes hold of my savior’s pant leg, nods once to each of us, and drags his twitching form back through the front door.

“That’s Brock,” Nurse Joy says, breaking the silence. “He does that.”

“Is he... okay?” Chikorice asks, concerned.

Nurse Joy might not understand the words, but she’s apparently good at context clues. “He’s fine. He’s built up an immunity.” She chuckles, “I think it’s as much a game with Croagunk as it is genuine lovesickness at this point. I’m still trying to figure out the rules, but it seems to mostly hinge around Brock’s creativity and Croagunk’s comedic timing. It’s certainly an entertaining way to start the day.”

“That didn’t seem very creative,” I say. She shrugs.

“That usually happens when he has other things on his mind. We’ll find out in a moment; he’s probably recovered by now.”

As if summoned - Nurse Joy has experience timing this out - Brock walks through the door, sedately like a normal person this time. And this time, he actually sees us.

“Oh, Jamie, you’re awake!” He holds out an empty hand out. I stare at it, half wondering what he expects me to do with it, and half trying to comprehend how short I am compared to these Humans.

Seriously, I barely come up to their waists.

“I’m Takeshi, but most people know me as Brock. I’m a former Rock-type Gym Leader and Pokemon Breeder, and now an aspiring Doctor.”

His second title makes me wrinkle my nose. Sounds dubious. But a Doctor... that seems familiar somehow. Just like a Nurse. “Are those anything like healers?” I ask.

If Brock is perturbed by my lack of knowledge, he doesn’t show it. “I don’t know exactly what you mean by ‘healers’, but that sounds about right. Doctors-“

“And Nurses,” Nurse Joy interjects.

“-keep Pokemon and Humans healthy by finding out what’s wrong with them and helping the body to fix it safely. For example, you came in with cuts that we bandaged up, and we used antiseptic to stop them from becoming infected.”

I nod, absorbing the information. “Healers do pretty much the same, but they mostly use healing moves. Anyway.” I hold my hand out in a passable imitation of how Brock did earlier, tilting my head a little. It’s some kind of formal greeting, I think. I don’t really get it. “I’m Jamie.”

“I’m Chikorice,” my partner pipes up from beside me, and I give her a glance. “Oh, right. You tell them, then.”

“That’s Chikorice. She says hi. We’re the only remaining members of the Rescue Team Synergy.”

Chikorice frowns at my word-choice. “You say that like the others died.”

They might as well have done, for how many times we’ll see them from now on, but I don’t voice that thought. They’re fine. “The others... aren’t somewhere we can reach,” I say instead.

Brock took my hand into his own - it’s at least twice as big as mine - at some point, and now he’s turning it over, this way and that, staring. Is this... part of the greeting?

“Eevee,” he says finally. “Right?”

My concern jumps. “Par- Pardon?”

“Your fingernails are longer, thicker and more curved than usual,” he explains. “They’re designed for digging. Your hair...” he pulls on a few strands, separating them from the rest. “Clearly more of a mane, you can see some growing on your neck, and it’s cream. You’re very short-“

“Thanks,” I say dryly, “I didn’t notice.”

He ignores me. “-but your bone structure is mostly that of an average-height adult Human, with variations resembling a small, quadrupedal, mammalian Pokemon. You could be part-Zorua or part-Eevee, or a few other things actually, but from your hair color, I’m betting on Eevee.”

We stare at Brock. He laughs. “I actually travelled for quite a long time with a friend of mine,” he explains. “I’ve seen a lot more than you might think.” He relinquishes my hand and kneels down to check my feet instead, with the air of someone who _hasn’t_ just learned that something can be half-Pokemon and half-Human, and I can almost believe him.

I find myself staring at my hands. Dirt-shovelling claws stare back. And do Humans usually have paw-pads? It’s in the name, isn’t it? _Paw_ -pads. Not hand-pads.

I glance over to Nurse Joy and make an odd ‘please come over here’ gesture - nearly falling over halfway through when Brock lifts up my foot - and she obligingly steps forward with a hand out.

Her nails are long and bright pink- “The pink is a layer of hardened paint,” she explains, “It isn’t natural.” And even with that extra layer, her nails are clearly still much thinner than mine. They’re wider too, less curved, like Brock said.

She flips her hand palm-up. No paw-pads. Just well-worn skin.

I flex my fingers into a fist - or, I try. Surely Humans can make a fist, like all the Human-like Pokemon. But my paw-pads stick out a bit, and they stop my hand from bending the same way, so I can’t quite tuck the tips of my fingers into the palm. Even if I could, my nails would make punching more harmful to me than to anyone else.

Brock dimly says something about the pads on my feet, but I’m not listening. How didn’t I notice this? Don’t I know Humans at all?

...Not really. Not in the slightest.

How am I supposed to be a Human if I don’t know the first thing about them?!

A vine squeezes my arm comfortingly, and I take a deep breath.

Right.

I can no longer assume anything about myself. I’m not entirely Human, so anything about my body that matches up with my time as an Eevee, I can’t assume is typical of Humans. Anything that doesn’t match up might still be affected by my physiology, but we can put more stock in those.

Chikorice is right. (She usually is.) We need to take our time and be careful with this whole mess. We need to observe Humans in a safe environment, learn how they work, before we meet them outside of that safety.

And while we’re at it, why not enjoy ourselves?

And get some food. I’m starving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who accidentally hit Post instead of Edit.
> 
> It was me! \\(^v^‘)/
> 
> So if you got here in the first few minutes, the chapter’s been very slightly altered since then. Nothing plot-changing, though.
> 
> Anyways, thanks for reading!


	5. Burning Battle

"Oh, good morning, Suika, Takeshi!" a chirpy voice calls as we file back into the cafe. The voice's owner, a Wigglytuff behind the counter (So _that's_ who's been cooking the food!) steps out to greet us. "And good morning to you, friends! Are you both hungry?"

A certain guild-master comes to mind. Hopefully this one accepts that there's such a thing as non-apple-shaped food.

"Very!" we chorus. Chikorice trots up to the counter and huffs when she realises how tall it is. Seems like everything here is built for Humans - and not me-sized Humans, either.

I fall into position beside her and in one fluid motion we boost her up onto the counter. She tosses me a vine, and we swing me up just as smoothly.

The room is abruptly quiet.

We look around in confusion. "Is there something on my face?" Chikorice asks after an awkward moment.

I gesture to the counter below me, frowning. "Are we not supposed to stand here?"

"Nothing like that," Brock is quick to assure us. "That's not what it's for, but it's no trouble. You work well together."

I blink at the change in topic. "Well, we are a team, after all. We've been together for... how long now?"

"Twelve years," Chikorice says absently, scanning the selection of food. "Hey Wigglytuff, what would you recommend?"

"Wow, that's a long time," I murmur as Wigglytuff sizes Chikorice up.

"Hmm. You seem like... definitely something bitter and aromatic. Here, take a teensy nibble of this!"

Chikorice takes a bite of whatever it is, and she shudders, her face scrunching up. "What _is_ that?" she asks in abject horror.

"Aspear! I knew it!" Wigglytuff proclaims, happily ignorant (or uncaring, you can never tell with some Pokemon) of my partner's plight.

She shall pay in blood.

She grabs a bowl and dishes out some browned, very sticky-yet-crispy-looking... chopped berries? I think? "You should try this then! Some caramelised Nanab!"

This time, Chikorice handles the food much like she would an Awakened Salamence.

"So how long have you been together?" Brock asks, and I fumble on the conversation for a moment. Didn't Chikorice just say-?

Oh, right.

"Twelve years," I relay wistfully. "Chikorice has lived longer with me than without."

"...How about you?"

"We're not sure," I shrug. "Amnesia. We think I'm a few years older than her at most, though."

Seeing my attention wavering for the moment, Chikorice catches my eye with a wave, front legs cupped around a steaming bowl of Nanab stew. "Jamie, this is all so good! You have to try some!"

Hey, do you mind if I...?" I gesture vaguely in her direction.

"Sure, go ahead," Brock smiles indulgently.

Silently thanking Chikorice for the out, I walk - crawl, since I'm bipedal - along the counter towards Chikorice.

Wigglytuff takes one look at me and gasps in delight. "Oh, I know _exactly_ what you need! Hold on just a moment, friendly friend!"

Chikorice tilts her bowl to take another big gulp of Nanab berry stew. "This is the greatest thing I've ever tasted," she says seriously, licking pink-coated lips.

Meals for a rescue team are largely comprised of raw food - apples, seeds (both Effect Seeds and otherwise), nuts, and leafy greens. Food that can't be naturally found in a Dungeon is destroyed outright upon entry - I think Dungeons seek it as fuel? - so in the midst of an expedition of any length, our options are even more limited.

Gummis are the holy grail of exploration food, but even they get old, and they fight to change our Rare Qualities in a way that feels somehow more invasive than learning a new move.

Even outside of Dungeons, most Pokemon don't see the point in cooking or preparing food that can be eaten raw. Those who do - bless Spinda's heart, and Kangaskhan too - are often treated more as a novelty than anything, and they rarely stray far into unknown territory when their business is so tenuous already.

I agree with Chikorice's sentiments whole-heartedly. This Razz berry stew with curry bread (how do you even make something like this?) is absolute heaven.

My stew came with a spoon, just in case I wanted to use it. But I can barely hold the thing, so I've copied Chikorice's attack plan: just press the bowl to my lips and tip it.

It's so good!

And then it's finished, both the stew and the pastries, and the pit in my stomach is replaced with a pit in my heart.

"Would you like seconds?" Wigglytuff asks.

If I weep a little, that's just because it's so delicious.

_Spicy_. Because it's so spicy.

If there's one thing I miss from being an Eevee (there are many, _many_ things I miss, but this is the most irritating right now), it's the ability to heal quickly.

"You need to be careful," Brock tells me as Chikorice gently lowers me into the wheeled chair I'll inhabit until my feet are less battered. "You've retained the pain tolerance of a Pokemon, but not so much the durability. Your body's a lot more fragile than it thinks it is, which is never a good thing."

Just brilliant.

My arm screams at me when I bump it, and I wince at the reminder of the stitches that Brock and Nurse Joy were forced to sew in. It'll definitely scar. Thankfully my feet will not.

So anyway, long story short, I'll be stuck wheeling myself around for a few weeks.

The wheeled chair's actually really cool, on the bright side. It's like combining the hand-crank you'd find on a well with the wheels of a wagon, and the material that makes up the edges of the giant back wheels is grippy, both for the floor and for handling.

I can lock the back wheels together too, meaning I can push myself forwards with my one good limb. Or I can unlock them with the flick of a seesaw-trigger (a different kind than the ones for the faux-sun) when I need to turn left or right.

"Alright, you're free to go," Nurse Joy says as I test my pushing power - not great, but I can get around fine.

"We're off then!" Chikorice cheers. "Jamie, are you ready?"

"Of course!"

Trundling along the paths of Pewter City is an experience.

It's a lot more dangerous than the average town, for one, with huge transportation devices tearing through the roads laid out for them. Every time a hulking metal cart flies past, my body blares warning signals at me, honed for the slightest hint of attack.

Chikorice hops into my lap after the fifth one. "The ground shakes like an earthquake whenever one of those things is nearby," she complains, shuddering.

Together, we can brave it.

We just kind of wander aimlessly, for the most part, searching for something to teach us more about the world. For all that Brock and Nurse Joy know I'm an Eevee, they seem to have assumed that Chikorice and I are from this world, so they haven't explained the very-very-basics of things - like what trainers are, or how many cities are dotted around, or whether Mystery Dungeons even _exist_ here.

"Something just caught my eye," Chikorice suddenly says as we roll along. "Is that a battle over there?"

Sure enough, it is - in a wide-open space bordered on two sides with benches, a Nidoran faces off against a Gastly, a Human backing each from their own spots, seemingly off the battlefield. Do Humans fill a support role in their teams, then? That suits me fine.

There are a few people - Pokemon and Humans - watching from the benches, so I push us over towards them as Gastly unleashes a nasty Hex that clips the retreating Nidoran's hind leg.

My prior experience with battles is overwhelmingly from Dungeons, which change the rules. Judging by appearances though, Gastly won't be able to take a hit if Nidoran can land one... I'm pretty sure Nidoran can know something effective, if he's fighting on the same level as a Gastly with Hex.

Sure enough, Nidoran's Human calls for Peck (calls for Peck? Are they the team leader then?) and Nidoran rushes in, mouth glowing, and tears Gastly from the sky.

He's clearly a bit of an amateur, that Peck wasn't very clean. But it gets the job done. Strange that the Humans didn't move though; either of them could have finished it much earlier.

"I think Gastly could've won that," I voice.

"I doubt it," the person next to me, with long silver-blue-hair, sighs boredly. "That's three-and-oh now. They just don't learn. It's painful to watch."

(I'm starting to wonder if Humans are related to Vivillon somehow. They're so colorful.)

We wince. We've seen teams led by stubborn idiots, and it always ends in tears eventually. "Still. If Gastly had stayed out of reach, or gone through the floor, she could've picked off Nidoran no problem."

"Doesn't Poison resist Ghost though?" Chikorice wonders. I think it's the other way around, but I'm not sure, so I just shrug.

"What are they even fighting about?"

She leans back, _oozing_ disinterest. "They're trying to replicate some famous battle between a Nidorino and Gengar. I don't see the point, personally. Joselyne."

...What?

"I think that's her name," Chikorice supplies.

"Oh. I'm Jamie," I say in kind. She pauses midway through a stretch, eyes narrowing. "And this is Chikorice."

"Jamie, eh? You're not from around here then," she surmises, oddly more alert. She searches my face for a moment but doesn't find whatever she wanted. "Do you have any rare Pokemon?" she asks instead.

Odd choice of words, but... "Just Chikorice. She's great."

Chikorice waves, foregoing would-be-wasted words, and Joselyne returns it haltingly.

Our attention is drawn back to the battlefield as a bolt of lightning strikes the previously-victorious Nidoran. It isn't very powerful, but Nidoran immediately seizes up, unwillingly rooted to the floor as the Pikachu versing him slams into his side with a Quick Attack.

_Quick Attack_. My mood sours at the reminder. Of course, Chikorice's sixth-sense kicks in and she snuggles up into my side, and it's all I can do to wipe the resultant silly grin off my face before anyone sees.

Chikorice can feel it though, and she's all too smug as we watch the battle.

Nidoran gives a good showing despite the paralysis, but in the end Pikachu finishes him off with another Quick Attack as her partner Human cheers her on.

I don't get why the Humans aren't helping.

Or rather, I think I _do_ get it, but I don't like that possibility.

"Do Humans not get involved in battles around here?" I ask Joselyne, hoping it's an innocuous enough question.

Clearly not. She stares at me like I'm crazy. Eventually she laughs it off though, saying, "You really _aren't_ from around here, are you?"

"So..."

"No, trainers just watch the battle and call the shots. Technically you _can_ interfere however you want as long as you aren't in the trainer's circle, but it's a tactical disadvantage. Better to be an extra pair of eyes than dead weight.

And nobody reads the rules anyway," she ends with a scowl.

"But you did?"

"I have a lot of free time, and not a lot to do with it," she shrugs, fiddling irritably with her watch. "Might as well get back into battling."

We fall into silence, eyes drifting back onto the battlefield. Another two Pikachu clash Iron Tails, but one overpowers the other and flings him away.

Joselyne scowls at the sight. "Pikachu's too popular, recently. Some kid showed off a strong one last year."

Too popular?

'Do you have any rare Pokemon?' rings in the back of my mind. I don't like the picture it paints.

"An entire species?" I ask aloud.

" _Really_ aren't from around here," she murmurs, catching me in her eyes like she's seeing me for the first time. She adjusts her glasses (oh, she wears glasses) and glances down at my partner strangely, who's too focussed on the Pikachu-Pikachu matchup to notice. "Kids and morons think what matters is getting the right Pokemon, so they just catch the ones that strong trainers use on TV. Then they don't know how to use them."

Chikorice glances up at me in worry, and it's only then that I realise how short my breaths are getting.

In.

Hold.

Out.

"What are the stakes for battles?" I ask, and it comes out mildly intrigued, betraying none of my dawning horror.

"Money."

Phew. For a moment there I- Wait.

"Money?"

Chikorice stands ahead of me on the battlefield, myself stood in the red corner's trainer's circle. Apparently the wheeled chair can't be taken out of the circle, so it'd be more trouble than it's worth to bring it in.

(Chikorice didn't like that, but she accepted the logic of it.)

Facing us is the cocky trainer(?) who jumped at my generic call for challengers. They don't have a Pokemon with them, which is odd-

"Go, Charmeleon!"

We switch to battle mode seamlessly. Think about where Charmeleon came from later. This is serious.

"This battle is between Jamie, of unknown origin, and Slate, of Pewter City," Joselyne calls pompously from the sidelines, having elected to judge the battle. "One Pokemon each!

The battle ends when either Pokemon is unable to battle, or either trainer forfeits! Withdrawing your Pokemon is forfeit!

Trainers who leave the trainer's circle can interfere with the battle and be targeted by the opposing team! You cannot return to the trainer's circle after leaving!"

We'll have to thank her later for the run-down of the rules. Nobody else was given that, near as I can tell.

"Begin!"

Slate hesitates, unsure of the unusual rules Joselyne tacked on the end. "Charmeleon, Flamethrower!" he eventually settles on.

I have to shield my face from the geyser of flame. Chikorice dodges neatly forwards, glancing back at me. I'm further away than we'd usually be comfortable with, but my stance, ready to sprint into action at the first signal, reassures her.

This is bad though. I have the highest natural Special Defense, and I'm not weak to fire. Usually, I'd rotate into Fire-types and tank the first hit, no problem.

Without that, we're in hot water.

The second Flamethrower clips her leaf, lighting it up like a match. Muscle memory takes over and I'm out of the trainer's circle and chiming Heal Bell before I can fully register it.

Three steps in, my Tackle intercepts Charmeleon's follow-up Slash with enough force to knock him off-balance. I place my injured arm behind me and I'm rewarded with a claw grazing across my good one, but it's a shallow cut which is small price to pay.

Slate's eyes narrow at the interruption, but instead of complaining, he orders another Flamethrower, directed at me. Seems he remembers the rules.

Heated air licks at my face, forcing me to blink rapidly. I almost miss Charmeleon's follow-up Slash through the streaks of orange, but I barely out-range the swipe with Quick Attack, weaving back in to drive him off with a blurred strike to the snout. With the time afforded by that hit, I retreat to Chikorice, and we're finally in a good spot.

"On sur."

Once again, Charmeleon bares down on us with Flamethrower.

Once again, we're forced to protect our eyes.

Once again, he slices through the flame with a follow-up Slash.

But this time there's a

"SUR-"

"-PRISE!" Chikorice cries, victorious. Charmeleon is struck directly in the chest by a Helping Hand-empowered hunk of limestone which shatters on impact, spraying himself and his trainer with dust and fossil fragments.

Charmeleon's head hits the floor and he's out like a light.

"Charmeleon is unable to battle! Chikorice wins, which means Jamie is the victor!"

Never be predictable.

Joselyne looks at us oddly when we fall back into the wheeled chair, pockets a little heavier, but I'm starting to think that's her default expression so I don't pay it much mind.

"You were fast," is the first thing she says.

It occurs to me that:

A: Humans don't typically have Pokemon moves. I think.

B: She didn't notice the Heal Bell, the only move in my arsenal conspicuous enough to identify as a move at a glance.

To anyone else, further away from the fight than she was, it must have looked like I was just good at regular attacks.

Let's keep it that way.

I hum noncommittally, much too late, having forgotten what she asked. Instead I turn over Chikorice's leaf in my paws. "Just a little scorched," I decide. "Should heal in a day or two."

"Worry about yourself," my partner scolds, guiding my arm to rest in front of her. "Don't think I didn't see that claw get you."

"We get worse than this most days!"

(That isn't strictly true. We got too strong for most Dungeons to inflict much harm upon us.)

"Most days we can heal the damage." Ignoring my grumbling, she prods it gently in a few places. I barely notice, and she nods, satisfied.

"I'm pushing the chair though."

Oh, come on!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s been a while, but Pokemon Presents got me in the mood for some PMD!


End file.
